


In The Mourning

by denofiniquity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Actor Castiel, Aftermath of Torture, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Anal Sex, Anorexia, Anxiety Disorder, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Child Neglect, Drug Addiction, Eating Disorders, F/M, First Time, Gambling Addiction, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, It's okay though, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Psychological Torture, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Schizophrenia, Tattoo Artist Dean, Tattoos, Therapy, Top Castiel, Top Dean, everyone is fucked up in the head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denofiniquity/pseuds/denofiniquity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is somehow still alive after yet another drug overdose, and Sammy puts his foot down and brings Dean to a treatment facility for Dean's various addictions. Dean hates it from the second he walks in the door, but a pair of startling blue eyes in process group makes Dean start to question everything he is. As Dean grows closer to the other patients, he finds himself falling in love with Castiel. But both Dean and Castiel are hiding huge secrets, secrets that threaten the safety of each other. Will ghosts from their pasts tear them apart, or push them closer together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy there.
> 
> This is my first supernatural fan fiction, so provide constructive criticism if you feel I screwed something up or if my writing sucks. Heh.  
> No but really, please tell me your opinions and what you think, even if you don't like it.
> 
> Updates should be two-three times monthly, but I won't give a certain day because my life schedule isn't very consistent. 
> 
> Each chapter has two songs that I felt were appropriate to whatever happens in the chapter, so make sure to listen to them or at least look up the lyrics.
> 
> I will provide warnings when certain chapters get quite intense. 
> 
> This work is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own, but I'll minimize those as much as possible.
> 
> You can contact me on tumblr: california-cas.tumblr.com
> 
> Enjoy!

**Castiel**

_We Are Broken- Paramore_

“It’s not like anyone understands, right?”

Castiel can’t tell you how many times he’s heard that phrase uttered in this room. It’s true, no one in the real world understands. The treatment center had bubble-wrapped everything. It rounded the sharp edges, padded the walls, and made sure no bruises, scrapes or cuts could leave their mark. But what they couldn’t’t protect the patients from was the memories. The memories cut deeper than any knife and hurt worse than a sucker punch to the gut. They left him screaming and crying as he awoke from yet another nightmare. The screams were the only words he spoke during his stay so far. Not a word at meals, not a word in art therapy, not a word in process group… he had shut himself off from the rest of the world. Of course the staff knew why Castiel was there, but none of the other patients did. There were no outward signs of any disorder the patients were familiar with. The only thing they saw was the quiet indifference emanating from him. The sole insight the other patients had gleaned about Castiel is that every night he would wake them up with his shrieks and cries for someone to save him. They tried to connect with him and make him feel less alone, but when he didn’t make an effort, they stopped making an effort too. Truthfully, Castiel really did needed saving. He just didn’t know how to ask. Others in the facility seemed to be wary of him. While they kept tabs on the outside world and counted the days they were in, Castiel didn’t’t. He had lost count of the days he had been in weeks ago. He didn’t’t read the gossip magazines, even though he was no longer on every cover. He didn’t watch TV, preferring to stare out the window. It seemed he had been living in the real world too much, and now he wanted nothing to do with it.

When the news that the picture-perfect star of FOX’s hit show was headed into treatment, it came as a shock to everyone. Castiel Milton was an all-American guy. He acted, he danced, and he had an amazing voice. He had burst on to the scene and had snatched up Grammy’s, Emmy’s, and every other award out there. He'd even been nominated for an Oscar. The public loved him. But they didn’t’t know what he was hiding. Still didn’t’t, in fact. The statement released for him had only said, “Castiel has canceled the rest of his North-American tour and taken a break from his show on FOX. He apologizes for any inconvenience, but he needs some rest and relaxation. He will be getting these things in a treatment facility in the Midwest. Castiel asks that you respect his privacy and he wants to assure his fans that he will be performing for them again soon.” That statement had been released four months ago. The next season of his show had been canceled, as well as his guest appearances on talk shows. As far as the public knew, he had disappeared.

Every night, the nurses would come around with each resident’s medication and tiny plastic cups of lukewarm water. Castiel would take the little pink pill and tuck it under his tongue. The sleeping pills only trapped him in his nightmares, not allowing him to wake when they got unbearable. He found no comfort in laying his head on the pillow; only stress and anxiety that had him shaking before the dreams even began. As he started to drift off, images flickered behind his eyelids. He had long since stopped trying to tell himself that tonight would be different, that he would be able to sleep. A few hours into the night, his ear-piercing screams had woken up half the resident’s wing. Tonight was even worse. Tonight, no one came to his rescue, no one came to save him, no one was able to wake him up.

**Dean**

_Au Revoir- OneRepublic_

It was a long drive from Kansas to Minnesota, made even longer by Sammy's silence as he drove. Dean had protested about the driving arrangements, saying that before he was stuffed into treatment he at least deserved to drive the Impala one last time. Sam had just glared at him and said point blank, "You're not sober, you're not driving". Dean wanted to say that he was as clean as he had been in months, with only alcohol pumping through his system. Maybe he was a little drunk, but he'd driven when he had been more fucked up before and he'd never crashed. Still it was different this time, Sammy was in the car. Dean may have screwed up his own life, but he would rather suffer for forty years in hell than see the same thing happen to his little brother. So he quit his complaining and just slid in to the passenger seat as Sam kissed Jess goodbye and promised to call her when they got to Glenwood.

Dean's attempts at conversation sounded pathetic even to him, and with Sam's terse one-word answers, Dean eventually just gave up. The stony silence was unbearable for both of the brothers. It reminded them too much of their childhood of leaving the latest motel with their father in a drunken stupor, cursing under his breath as he drove too fast on the highway out of town. After one last glance at Sam's clenched jaw, Dean sighed and leaned his head back on the seat as he looked out the window. The view wasn't anything spectacular, but he felt the need to soak it all up before he was locked away. He tried to stay awake, but the Jack Daniels and PBR from that morning were making him drowsy, and soon he was fast asleep.

When the soft sounds of snoring started coming from the passenger side of the Impala, Sam glanced over at his older brother and sighed. Dean looked so young and carefree when he was asleep. Still, you could see the hollowness in his cheeks and how sunken in his eyes were. Dean's lifestyle was catching up to him, his body slowly wearing out. He was only thirty, yet he had a whole lifetime's worth of use on his features. The if only's started to play through Sam's head again, but he stopped them before they could fully form. He may have left Dean when he went off to college, but he was making up for it now by bringing Dean to treatment. He was going to help Dean get better no matter how much Dean resisted or how long it would take. He needed his brother back. Sam missed his hero.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will get longer as we go along, I promise.

** Castiel **

_Who Will Guard the Door- Over the Rhine_

Drizzling rain had always been Castiel's favorite weather. His mother always told him that rain was the angel's way of washing everything away and making things clean again. Even though he was supposed to be moving on from his mother, he still loved this weather. His therapist, Tessa, was working with him on shutting down thoughts and memories of his mother before they dragged him back into her fantasy. He hated it, he didn't want forget Anna or her angels. Castiel was making progress though, he didn't believe in angels anymore and he no longer got lost in his mother's beautiful, blinding, twisted fantasy land. It was a daily struggle between balancing what was real and what lies his mother had told him about the world. He was just trying to observe the world now, trying to figure out how it worked and how he was supposed to work in it. The real world was much scarier, darker, and nothing he was prepared for.

He found it easier to understand the world when he didn't talk because he never knew what to say. Castiel didn't know how to talk to people when writers or his publicist didn’t script his lines. He'd never had an original thought before, but with his mother gone he had to learn the concept of "free will"- Tessa's word for it, not his. She had explained it to him one day in their sessions early on in his stay at Glenwood.

"Do you know what imprinting is Castiel?"

"Imprinting? Mother explained it to me once. It's when a human rescues a baby animal, the animal thinks that the human is its mother. Is that right?" He looked so proud of himself that he could make the connection.

"Yes, Castiel. Humans can do it too, only it's a little bit different. See, once baby animal imprints on a human, it can never go back in the wild. It will never learn how think like normal animal, because the human will teach it the wrong things. So while the human can be good for the animal at that moment, the truth is the human is very bad for the animal. Once something imprints, it no longer has free will." Castiel seemed to be following, but at the mention of free will, his face screwed up in confusion.

"Free Will? Why is Will trapped?" He asked. It would've been almost funny if he hadn't been so earnest in his question.

"Will in this sense isn't a person. Why don't you grab that dictionary off the shelf and look up the definition?" He jumped up and bounded over to the dictionary's familiar place on the shelf. Castiel frequently used the dictionary during their sessions, learning new words to convey how he was feeling.

"Will is the power of control the mind has over its own actions. So free will is having control over your actions then?" He still seemed confused, as if he had never heard of such a concept before. Which, of course, he hadn't.

"Yes that's exactly it Castiel!" Tessa exclaimed while leaning forward. "While you were still under the influence of your mother, you didn't have free will. She controlled all your actions, even if it seemed like she wasn't. Now that you're on your own, you have free will," she sat back in her chair and looked at Castiel expectantly. "So, you have your free will back. What are you going to do with it?"

That was three months ago, and he still was no closer to figuring out what he wanted to do or how to do it. He was just as lost as he had been before, only now he knew how far he had to go, and that realization crushed him like a ton of bricks.

** Dean **

_To Write Love On Her Arms- Helio_

His chest feels like it's on fire. That's the first thing that registers. Then he hears the beeping of the machines. He swallows, his throat cracked and dry, and slowly opens his eyes. He isn't surprised by what he sees. He's in a hospital bed, and by the looks of it he's been here a few days. " _Fuck_ " he thinks to himself. A nurse bustles in and starts meddling with the machines and the needles in his arm. It's ironic- a needle in his arm is what got him here in the first place, yet this one is saving his life. She glances over at him with a carefully controlled expression, but her eyes give her away. She's pissed, whether at him or something else, Dean isn't sure yet. He thought nurses were supposed to be kind, but considering this is the third time this has happened, he can she why she would be mad. He left quite an impression last time and its quite obvious she remembers him. Dean tries to crack a smile, but he can only manage a grimace. "So how close to the light of heaven did I get this time nurse?"

"You've been unconscious for five days Dean. We were starting to think you'd gone towards the light of hellfire." She continues talking, but he starts to drift in and out. Everything hurts too much to stay awake too long. Dean manages to catch snippets of the story and he begins to piece together what happened. Something about the motel manager finding him, his stomach being pumped, his heart giving out, and finally, being at the hospital for the past five days. Dean's surprised he's still alive. He's never pushed the envelope this far before. He couldn't help but wish he'd pushed it farther.

A different nurse wakes him up some time later, and hands him a cup of water and the phone. He's thankful for the water, the phone not so much. On the other end is a screaming Sammy. He's never seen or heard him this mad before, not even during the argument with dad about Sam going to Stanford. Dean let Sam get everything off his chest before he even tried to get a word in edgewise. It seemed like hours later that Sam finally cooled down enough for Dean to give a response. He didn't have much to give in way of an apology; he hates all that touchy-feely girly bullshit anyway. He can't even promise this is the last time either. Dean can't give Sam anything, and as much as it hurts, he's secretly relieved. He's given Sam everything he has for his whole life. This was the only thing he was keeping for himself, his relentless quest for self-destruction. Sam ends the call with an empty threat.

"This is the last fucking time Dean. I mean it.  Maybe you want to die, but I'm not going to try and save you after this."

As he moves to end the call he hears his brother mutter under his breath, "You're turning into dad". No combination of the 26 letters could've possibly hurt Dean more. He struggled to breathe, not only from Sam's comment but also because he felt like he had an elephant sitting on his chest. He tried to sink back into sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Memories from his childhood flickered behind his eyelids, memories he'd tried to repress. Dean couldn't handle this, he needed the sweet relief of the needle in his arm and pushing down on the plunger.

He couldn't lay still, every muscle in his body ached something fierce and his heart was pounding like a runaway train. It wasn't long before he was drenched in sweat. He pushed the call button next to his bed, but no nurse came. On shaky legs he got up and stalked over to the nurses station. He was lucky it wasn't very far, the floor had started moving and his stomach threatened to rebel against him with every passing moment. When Dean reached the nurses station, he pounded his fist on the desk. "I'm not fucking doing this cold turkey. Give me some damn dolophine already so I can sleep this off." The same nurse from earlier when he first woke up leveled him with her eyes.

"This is the third time this year you've ended up with us Dean. You're no longer a candidate for a detoxification plan." She couldn't be serious. If this was the case, he was checking himself out and getting as far away as possible from this hospital.

"If I'm no longer a candidate, then I want my discharge papers. I'm going home."

"I'm afraid that's not possible Dean. You're considered a danger to yourself, and Dr. Mills is recommending a sixty day inpatient stay so we can help you help yourself." The nurse stated it calmly, but Dean saw red. Like hell he was going to stay here for two months. They couldn't take away his freedom like this, no matter what some crack doctor said. He was shaking like an earthquake, and he heard a roaring in his ears. Dean frequently became a self-fulfilling prophecy, and this was no exception. He was able to put his fists through the walls, throw chairs and knock out an orderly before they were able to sedate him and get him under control. As Dean's eyes drifted shut, his last thought was of how much he really was turning into John.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 105 hits already! Thanks everyone :)
> 
> This will be the last chapter until next week, I'm crazy busy this week, so I apologize. 
> 
> For reference, Remliel is the angel of awakening, and is also the name Anna chose for the world she lives in with her children. It'll make sense in the story, I promise. 
> 
> Hope you all like the story so far!

** Castiel **

_Bloody Mary- Lady Gaga_

"Castiel! Castiel! It's time, momma said it's time!" Castiel's older sister Hael shouted over her shoulder as she bounded down to the creek behind their farmhouse. Castiel longed to get up and run down to the creek like his sister had, but Momma had told him that he was to stay in his room for Hael's coming of age ceremony. He wanted to know what was in store for him when he turned 16, which was when he would have his own ceremony. It was only two years away, but for Castiel it seemed to be ages away. Momma had been acting strange for the past month, the angels were arguing with her more than ever. In the past week she had seemed to be back to her normal self, for which Castiel was grateful. He was worried for both momma and Hael, but that was just in his nature. He was a worrier; he wanted to protect them both from the mean angels that made momma mad. Every time Uriel would show up, Castiel and Hael had long since learned that they had to hide before they were punished for his arrival. Castiel hoped Uriel would stay away for Hael's special day.

 

It had begun to grow dark and Hael and his mother still hadn't come home. Castiel had been in the throes of a full-blown panic attack for an hour now. He thought he had heard screams but he had convinced himself that was just the anxiety talking. Momma would never hurt them on purpose; it was the angels that confused her and convinced her that her children were evil and against her. Those were the worst days; both Castiel and Hael had scars to prove it.

Castiel paced the well-worn track from his door to his window for what seemed like eternity. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hael sprint out of the forest. He gripped the windowsill as he leaned out the window, trying to figure out why Hael seemed to be coated in something. Castiel couldn’t control his scream and his rising panic when he realized his beloved sister was covered in blood.

Somehow, his feet had unfrozen themselves, and before he really knew what had happened, Castiel was throwing the front door open and running as fast as he could to his sister. As he got closer, he noticed that Hael was holding her left arm tightly against her chest, and she appeared to be limping. She turned toward Castiel with a look of sheer terror in her eyes.

“Cassie, we have to run, we have to get away, we have to leave, now now now now,” she whispered to him.

“Hael, what happened? What’s going on? Where’s momma?” Castiel gasped while clutching his side that was cramping up on him. Hael didn’t take the time to answer his questions, instead responding with their plan of action.

“We need to get out of Remliel and away from momma. Uriel’s here and he brought friends.” The last sentence chilled Castiel to the bone. Uriel was bad enough on his own, so if he had friends with him this time, momma would kill them both. Castiel clutched Hael’s uninjured hand and together they ran across cornfields and into the night.

 

** Dean **

_Secrets- OneRepublic_

“We’re here,” Sam announces gruffly, stepping on the brake a little harder than necessary. The almost nine hour drive had done nothing but sour Sam’s mood, as evidenced by the forehead print on the passenger-side window from Dean hitting it as they stopped.

“Geez Sammy, careful with Baby. You so much as leave a scratch on her and I’ll kill you.” Dean slurs as he wakes up from his alcohol induced nap.

“Not funny Dean. This isn’t a time for your usual wise-ass cracks at everyone around you. You’re here to get better, not to screw around.”

“Fine bitch.” is Dean’s simple response, and as mad as Sam is, he can’t help but reply the way he always does.

“Jerk.”

Dean saunters to the entrance as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Sam shakes his head and pulls a bitchface, knowing that this is Dean’s act every time Dean is scared out of his mind. He follows Dean inside, pulling the letter from Dr. Mills out of Dean’s medical folder. The folder is thicker than most books, not just from Dean’s overdoses but also from all the broken bones from their father’s blows when they were younger. Sam closes the folder as fast as he can, he doesn’t want to walk down that memory lane today, or really ever.

Once the two of them sign in, two orderlies appear and take the brothers separate ways. They have a quick goodbye, a short hug and a mumbled “I’ll see you next week,” from both of them.

 

The orderly with Sam takes him into an office room and tells him that the head nurse will be with him shortly. No sooner had the orderly left than a black woman walks in, both calmness and authority emanating from her.

“Hello Sam Winchester, I’m Nurse Moseley, but call me Missouri. Nurse Moseley sounds too formal for dealing with personal matters like this.” She continued on and explained what Dean would be doing on any given day and her plan for his course of treatment. Even though they both knew it, Missouri still clarifies that Dean’s recovery depended solely on his own shoulders. While Glenwood staff would provide tools to aid in the recovery process, it was all up to Dean to get better. As their meeting came to a close and they both stood to leave, Missouri grabbed Sam’s hand and looked him in the eyes. “Honey, I know you feel like this is your fault, that you’re responsible for the course Dean’s life has taken. Dean made his own choices, and he’s the one who got him in this mess. You made the best decision you could’ve in bringing him here. We’ll take care of him. I promise.”

Sam could hear Dean calling him a baby in his head as tears spilled down his cheeks and he pulled Missouri in for a giant bear hug. Her grip was crushing, but Sam knew it was filled with love. He smiled and went back to the Impala, pulling out his phone to call Jess as he stepped in the car.

 

The orderly that accompanied Dean introduced himself as Frank. The name fit perfectly, as Frank was blatantly honest. He led Dean to an examination room so they could establish his physical status. That was the easy part; Dean was more worried about the mental evaluation that was to follow.

Dean cleared the physical and was told he would be assigned a job around the center by the following day. Frank then brought him to a non-descript office and ushered him inside. Dean sat down on the couch available, and waited for the woman across from him to look up from the papers she was reading. Dean figured he should find her attractive, and in any other situation, he probably would have. The diplomas on her wall display her intelligence. The nameplate on her desk says her name is Pamela Barnes. Her name sounds like a traveling psychic’s, and Dean chuckles inwardly. They sit there for what seems like forever. The silence stretches on, and she didn't appear to even notice he’s in the room. Dean cleared his throat, and finally she looked up.

“Dean, you are a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside a bottle and a needle.” Dean thought that he should be offended, but it rings too true to deny. “Tell me about your experiences up until now, don’t even think about leaving anything out.” Dean barely starts before Pamela sees straight through his lies and calls him out on his bullshit. “Lying will get you nowhere Dean. Lets try again. Your childhood?” He glares at her and snaps his mouth shut. “Dean, I’m trying to help you, but you have to at least try. I don’t have anywhere to be, so I’ll sit with you all night if I have to to get the truth.”

Dean crossed his arms but opened his mouth, and suddenly everything is pouring out and he can’t stop it. Around the time Dean gets to the first time he tried smack, he starts crying, and by the time he gets to Sam leaving him for Stanford, he feels like he can’t breathe he’s crying so hard. Pam just sits next to him quietly and rubs his back until Dean finishes his story. Pam smiles at him and says, “We have a lot of work to do Dean, but this was a very good start. I’ll see you tomorrow. Try and get some rest tonight, and know that today and tonight are the hardest part. It does get easier, I promise.”

There’s no smile from Dean, just a deep sigh as Frank leads him to his room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god guys, I am so sorry for how long it took me to post this next chapter. I went on vacation with no internet, and then school started, and every time I sat down to write, I couldn't think of anything to say. I promise I'll do better for now on!  
> Dean's chapter is a little short, but I just had to leave it as a cliffhanger. 
> 
> Thanks for your kudos and comments! 
> 
> Feel free to contact me at california-cas.tumblr.com

** Castiel **

_Will I- RENT Cast_

While there never really were “normal” days in Glenwood Treatment Center, most days followed the same pattern. Residents were supposed to be up by 7, but because Castiel got so little sleep as it was, the night nurse always let him sleep in until 7:30. Morning meditation was next, but nearly all the residents fell back asleep while trying to “get in touch with their inner-selves”. It tended to be Castiel’s least favorite part of the day, but for different reasons. He didn’t like what was inside of him; he could still see his mother’s poison in his brain when he closed his eyes. Breakfast followed, and while most residents hated the food, Castiel couldn’t care less how it tasted. He found solace in knowing he would get three meals in a day; his mother’s unpredictability kept him underweight and underfed as a child.

Some sort of educational lecture followed, with small group time with therapists to process and talk about what they learned. This was Castiel’s favorite part of the day. He was fascinated by how the same group of people could hear the same information, yet interpret the information in completely different ways. Ash would usually find the negative aspect of the speech, while Garth could only see the positives. Benny was either bored or pissed with no in-between, and Victor would crack jokes to get Benny interested or to calm him down, depending on Benny’s mood. Kevin loved to engage in discussions about the speech, only he would have to repeat himself five times before his OCD would let him continue. Charlie sat next to Castiel and provided commentary on the group. She was the only one who continued to talk to Castiel through his self-enforced silence. Even though Castiel didn’t know how to express his gratitude, Charlie seemed to understand.

After the daily lecture, each resident went to a support/recovery of their therapist’s choosing, sometimes attending more than one sub-group a week. Benny went to his anger management meetings or Alcoholics Anonymous, Garth went his eating disorder support group or the LGBT group, Victor went to Gambler’s Anonymous or AA, Ash went to Narcotics Anonymous, Kevin attended meetings for his OCD, and both Charlie and Castiel attended a PSTD support group. These meetings were always draining for the residents, whether they participated in the meeting or if they were merely spectators.

Following those meetings was lunchtime and an hour of free time, giving the residents the time they needed to recovery emotionally from their mornings. Castiel would eat quickly and retreat back to his room, where he would attempt to catch twenty minutes of sleep. If he didn’t get a little bit of sleep to tide him over until that night, he’d see his mother out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the day.

The residents then had “wellness activities” like cooking, yoga, art therapy, music therapy, open gym, a weight room, or movie discussions. The residents cycled through these activities, the rule being they couldn’t do the same activity for more than two days in a row. Castiel loved the cooking classes, and Charlie loved the music therapy, so they switched off between the two. The only time anyone had seen Castiel smile was the first time he cooked an entire meal by himself. It had been Charlie’s favorite day in treatment.

After the wellness activities, each resident went to their therapist or doctor appointments. Castiel loved and hated his time with Tessa; somehow she made everything clear only to get it all tangled up inside his head again. She reminded him of his mother on her good days, but Tessa’s steady consistency separated the two women. Castiel valued her even-keel personality and ability to be calm even when he was having a breakdown more than he could put in to words. He could tell her anything without feeling like he was totally out of place. Tessa was the only person who had heard Castiel utter a world in the entire Glenwood facility, but more than that, she heard him even when he was silent.

Before dinner, each resident had personal time for reflection, reading and individual treatment assignments. After dinner, they had board games, movies, ping pong, foosball, and books to choose from and participate in. It was every resident’s favorite part of the day; even Charlie had overcome her anxiety to the point where she could enjoy herself with the whole group. Castiel had been pleasantly surprised to learn he was very good at ping pong and foosball, and he was the current Glenwood champion of both.

Almost every night, Castiel wished the after dinner activities lasted the whole night. Dread settled in the bottom of his stomach while he began getting ready for bed. Showers were no longer relaxing, he only felt like he had swallowed hot lead. Castiel was always the last one out of the shower room and the last one back into his room. He had his own room; because no roommate could sleep through his shrieks and screams during the night. Castiel curled up into a ball under the covers, closed his eyes, and waited for the nightmares to begin.

 

** Dean **

_Justified Black Eye- Tony Sly_

Dean heard the impala's engine roar into the parking lot outside of their latest dingy motel. The engine shut off, and he heard his dad slam the car door, and stumble up to their room. John was drunk, Dean knew with as much certainty as he knew Sam would get an A on next week's math test. He jumped up and ushered Sammy into his bedroom. Sam knew the routine by now too, silently sliding his door shut. He no longer protested that he take some of the punishment off of Dean, he knew Dean would never let it happen in a million years. It didn’t make it any easier for Sam, all he could do was stock the freezer with frozen peas for the swelling on Dean’s face and keep a first-aid kit hidden under his bed.

John finally got the key in the lock and staggered in to their motel room. He slammed the door so hard behind him that the windows rattled. Dean had begun to mentally prepare himself the second he had hidden Sam away. He had long since stopped praying before these beatings, no longer seeing the point since no angel had ever come to save him. Dean had a set of rules he made himself follow during these situations, and even though he was a firm believer in the phrase “rules were meant to be broken”, he never deviated from his personal set of rules. Before he had rules, he ended up in the hospital with broken bones. Since he created his rules, he had survived. Dean was lucky he was still alive, if it hadn’t been for Sammy, he would’ve given up or killed their father a long time ago.

His rules were simple. One- only respond with “Yes Sir” or “No Sir”. Don’t engage, just simply respond. Two- protect his head. Sam couldn’t stitch up or ice a concussion. Three- don’t fight back. Ever. Four- don’t run away. John will tire himself out faster if Dean just let him finish. Running away only wound him up and made him angrier. Five was the most important rule of all- don’t ever let him hurt Sammy.

“DEAN!” John thundered. “What the hell is this fucking mess?!” John gestured at the garbage can, which contained his own three beer bottles from before he had left for the bar that evening. Dean had learned to bite his tongue when his father was drunk, but for some reason, his father blaming him for John’s own mistake made Dean forget the rules.

“They’re your own bottles Dad, I-” John’s fist seemly came out nowhere. Dean fell to the floor, seeing stars and rubbing his jaw.

“Don’t use that tone with me boy!” John aimed a kick straight into Dean’s ribs, knocking the wind out of him. “I don’t want fucking excuses, that’s all you ever give!” John punctuated each word with a swift kick to Dean’s ribs and stomach. “All you are is fucking failure, you worthless piece of shit!” John stopped his vicious attack on Dean and breathed heavily. Somehow, Dean crawled up on to all fours. He stayed there, holding his ribs and wheezing. “Come on! Hit me! Stand up and be a fucking man!” Dean gingerly stood up and faced his father.

“I don’t need to hit you to be a man.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I apologize for taking so long to update, I've been applying to colleges and I'm slowly losing my mind over that so I didn't have much time until recently to bang out another chapter. BUT Dean and Cas finally meet in this chapter so yay! 
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks are all greatly appreciated.
> 
> I have a picture of the sketch Dean was drawing on my blog (california-cas.tumblr.com) under the In The Mourning page. 
> 
> Enjoy!

** Castiel **

_Home- Johnnyswim_

Castiel had stumbled through his morning at Glenwood, feeling even less like himself than usual. Charlie seemed to pick up on it, and stayed closer to him than normal. The whole morning was a blur, he couldn't remember what he had for breakfast, much less what the presentation had been about. Charlie had to snap her fingers in front of his face to get him to zone back in to his surroundings. Castiel offered her a small smile in apology, and Charlie sighed.

"Let's head off to group, then you can lay down for a bit and get your head back, yeah?" Charlie kept her voice low as she wrapped her arm around Castiel's shoulder and steered him out of the library. He nodded mutely and let himself be guided along to their support group meeting.

Castiel didn't even look up as he and Charlie shuffled into the room. They sat in their usual seats next to Tessa's chair, since she usually lead the meeting. He zoned out again, but a sudden outburst from Ruby caused him to snap back to attention.

"Get out of my spot, asshole!" Ruby spat out as she towered over the person in her seat.

"Damn, who pissed in your Wheaties this morning baby?" The voice was low, so a man then, Castiel guessed. He still couldn't see the man, for Ruby was blocking him from view.

"Are you fucking deaf? I said get out of my spot!" Castiel could vividly picture Ruby's eyes flashing as she shouted at the new arrival.

"Not deaf, just ignoring you. This spot is quite comfortable, and before you got here, I had a great view of that gorgeous man over there. I ain't giving that up for nothing."

The whole room tensed up after the man's last comment, and Castiel felt Charlie stiffen beside him. It took him a minute to realize that he was the "gorgeous man" the stranger had been referring to. He blushed deep scarlet and refused to look up anymore.

"Castiel? That wordless freak? Oh sugar, you ought to have much better taste than him," Ruby jeered as she moved to go sit somewhere else, this new development was much more interesting to her than her chair. Castiel felt Charlie jump up beside him, but before she could open her mouth, the stranger had pulled Ruby out of her chair, twisted her arm behind her back and pinned her to the floor.

"Apologize. Now." The stranger's voice was deadly low, and left no room for disagreeing. Ruby squirmed, but quickly realized there was no way she was going to break his hold on her.

"Jesus, I'm sorry alright? Now let me up!" The man quickly let Ruby go, for they could hear footsteps in the hall. Ruby scowled and sunk down in her chair. The man walked over and offered his hand to Castiel.

"I'm Dean. I didn't mean anything by that comment, I swear. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." This Dean sounded so earnest that Castiel looked up at him. Castiel sucked in a breath, for staring back him were the most beautiful forrest green eyes he had ever seen. The eyes were framed by long eyelashes, and a smattering of freckles dusted Dean's cheekbones. Charlie, thankfully, interrupted.

"This is Castiel, he doesn't talk much, or really at all. Both of us appreciate your apology. I'm Charlie, by the way. I'm Castiel's best friend in here. I think. He hasn't told me otherwise, so I assume he's in agreement." Charlie trailed off, realizing she was babbling on. Dean chuckled, and Castiel immediately loved the sound.

"Castiel is quite the mouthful. Unusual too. Sometime, you'll have to tell me what it means." Dean winked at Castiel as he moved back to the chair he had been previously occupying. Castiel didn't think he _could_ talk, even if he wanted to.

"I like him. Even though he kinda is an ass," Charlie whispered into Castiel's ear as Tessa walked into the room to begin the meeting. Castiel just smiled in response.

"Alright everyone," Tessa clapped her hands twice to get the room's attention. "We have someone new joining us today. Dean, why don't you introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about you?"

 _Yes, please tell us more about you Dean,_ Castiel thought.

Dean smirked and said, "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women."

Charlie laughed and shook her head. Tessa gave Dean a cross look from across the circle, but didn't make him change his answer to something more appropriate. Instead, she announced the topic of discussion for that day.

"As Dean brought it up, albeit in a roundabout way, I think it's appropriate we talk relationships today, whether they're romantic, platonic, emotional, physical, healthy, or unhealthy. Who wants to start?" Tessa barely paused before continuing, "Dean, how about you start us off today?" If looks could kill, Tessa would've been a pile of ashes from the glare Dean was  shooting at her. All his cocky bravado had disappeared, only leaving anger in its place.

"No. I'm not talking about that, not here, not ever. Move on to someone else." Castiel noticed Dean trembling, his knuckles going white as he clenched his fists in his lap. Tessa, wisely, moved on to someone else, but Castiel stopped paying attention. He only had eyes for Dean. What had happened to him to make in react like that?

 

** Dean **

_Stay Awake (Dreams Only Last For A Night) Connect Sets Acoustic- All Time Low_

After a morning of being separated from everyone else, Dean was equal parts eager and nervous to meet the others in Glenwood. Frank had led him into a room with couches and chairs in a circle. Dean chose a chair at random, flopping into it. Frank moved to a chair in the corner, out of the circle, and sat down, picking up a technology magazine as he did so. Slowly, other residents began to trickle in. A redhead walked in, guiding a raven-haired man in with her. They sat down almost directly across from Dean, and the redhead pulled out a Star Wars comic book and began reading it. The man however, just kept his head down and fiddled with his hands. Dean could see that the man's fingers were long and delicate, and what he could do to Dean with those fingers... Dean shook himself, he was here to get better, not hook up with other residents. Suddenly, a shadow fell across him, and he looked up to find a very angry blonde standing above him.

"Get out of my spot, asshole!" The woman snarled. _Well hello to you too_ , Dean thought.

"Damn, who pissed in your Wheaties this morning baby?" He replied easily with a smile, flirting coming as easy to him as breathing. He was Dean Winchester, after all.

"Are you fucking deaf? I said get out of my spot!" She snapped back. Dean stifled a laugh, this woman was oh so fun to mess with.

"Not deaf, just ignoring you. This spot is quite comfortable, and before you got here, I had a great view of that gorgeous man over there. I ain't giving that up for nothing." Dean retorted. It took him a beat to realize he had said the wrong thing. The whole room had gone deathly silent, and the man had blushed deep scarlet and refused to meet Dean's eye.

"Castiel? That wordless freak? Oh sugar, you ought to have much better taste than him," sneered the woman as she walked over to another chair. She had just sat down when Dean pulled her up, yanked her arm up behind her, and pinned her to the floor. He straddled her back, pulling her arm up a little bit farther to show her how serious he was.

"Apologize. Now." he demanded.

"Jesus, I'm sorry alright? Now let me up!" Dean didn't want to let her go, but he heard footsteps in the hall, and he didn't want to start out his stay like this. He released her and walked over to the man he had been admiring earlier. He offered his hand and introduced himself.

"I'm Dean. I didn't mean anything by that comment, I swear. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." The man didn't reply or shake his hand, but he did look up at Dean. _Sweet mother of Mary_ Dean thought as he stared into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The man looked like he had the ocean in his eyes, and Dean had never seen anything so beautiful. The redhead jumped in, breaking the moment.

"This is Castiel, he doesn't talk much, or really at all. Both of us appreciate your apology. I'm Charlie, by the way. I'm Castiel's best friend in here. I think. He hasn't told me otherwise, so I assume he's in agreement." she paused to take a breath and bite her lip.

"Castiel is quite the mouthful. Unusual too. Sometime, you'll have to tell me what it means." Dean tossed a wink over his shoulder at Castiel before walking back over to his spot and sitting down. As he watched Charlie whisper something into Castiel's ear, Dean thought to himself that maybe his stay here at Glenwood wouldn't be so bad.

"Alright everyone," The therapist, Dean thought her name was Tessa, clapped her hands twice to get the room's attention. "We have someone new joining us today. Dean, why don't you introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about you?"

Or maybe his stay would be that bad. He pushed that thought down and smirked.

"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women." The rest of the group chuckled at his comment, but Tessa obviously was not amused.

"As Dean brought it up, albeit in a roundabout way, I think it's appropriate we talk relationships today, whether they're romantic, platonic, emotional, physical, healthy, or unhealthy. Who wants to start?" Tessa stated. Dean had a bad feeling about the whole situation, and Tessa only confirmed his suspicions when she said, "Dean, how about you start us off today?"

Thoughts of his last boyfriend sent his heart racing and he began to tremble. He tried to shut down the images of metal cuffs and whips racing through his brain before he sent himself into a panic attack.

"No. I'm not talking about that, not here, not ever. Move on to someone else." Dean growled. Tessa made the right choice and moved on to someone else. Dean was hardly paying attention, he had to keep telling himself that he was safe here, that Alistair was back in St. Louis and didn't know where Dean was.

To Dean it seemed like months, but the hour and a half of support group was soon over. Frank had at some point reappeared, to bring Dean back to his room. Dean still wasn't eating with everyone else, they wanted him to get used to his new life as much as possible before letting him be a part of the chaos that was mealtimes. Frank brought Dean to a new room, and while he didn't notice it at first, he slowly figured out that the room had another occupant. Another nurse, he didn't know her name yet, brought him his lunch tray and continued on her rounds.

It had scarcely been twenty minutes when the door opened and in scurried Castiel. He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Dean eating his lunch in the adjoining bed. Dean broke the silence first, since Castiel had froze with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Cas, hey! I guess I'm rooming with you, at least for awhile. I hope that's okay." Cas, of course, didn't respond. He just nodded once and headed over to his bed. Dean watched Cas curl himself up under the blankets to sleep. _He's got the right idea_ , Dean thought. He put his tray aside and stretched out on his bed, trying to get comfortable. His mind wouldn't quiet down however, and he soon gave up on trying to sleep in favor of pulling out his sketchbook. The only approved writing utensils in Glenwood were felt-tipped pens which were rather shitty for drawing. Missouri had promised to get him some charcoal to draw with if he focused on his treatment. Dean figured he could bullshit his way through well enough to get the charcoal, and maybe even a good old wood pencil.

Dean paused before putting his pen to paper, and tried to decide what to sketch.

The only image that came to mind was angel wings, so he began a rough outline of wings sprouting from the back of a falling man. He wasn't sure what it meant, but it made a decent enough challenge to sketch so Dean continued. He soon lost himself in his art, forgetting where he was. Dean was finishing up shading on the man's face when a loud whimper startled him out of his reverie. He looked over to Cas's bed to ask him if he had heard the sound too. Cas was curled up into an even tighter ball, with the blankets piled high around him. Dean quickly slid off his own bed and crept over to Cas's. Cas was crying as he dreamed, his face pinched in pain. Dean eased himself on to the bed, using a hand to rub Castiel between his shoulder blades.

"Shhhh angel, it's okay. I'll protect you, you're okay, I promise." Dean continued on, whispering comforting things to the other man. Slowly, Cas began to uncurl himself, and the sobs became quieter and quieter until they stopped completely. Before Dean knew what had happened, Cas had rolled over and buried his face in Dean's chest and clutched his arm like his life depended on it. Dean just sighed and wrapped his free arm around Cas and soon he began to nod off as well. As he fell asleep, his only thought was, _I am so screwed._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry for the delay, I was in the fall play at my school and all my time was spent on that and homework, leaving me no time to write and work on this. I have a lot more time on my hands, and will be updating this much more frequently now. Thank you for sticking with me. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave kudos, comments, and you can always contact me at california-cas.tumblr.com.

** Castiel **

_From This Valley- The Civil Wars_

Castiel opened his eyes slowly as he woke, his eyelids feeling like sandpaper against his baby blues. It took him a minute to realize he wasn't alone in his bed, that there was a warm body breathing evenly next to him. Cas froze, his body caught between fight or flight. He forced himself to calm down, and he risked glancing up, only to see freckles. He knew his first thought should be why is Dean in my bed, but he could only marvel at Dean's sleeping form. Dean was beautiful. A light shadow of ginger stubble covered his jaw, further highlighting his freckles that were dotted along his nose and cheekbones like angel kisses. Dean's lush, pink lips were parted slightly as he slept, and all Cas wanted was to trace those lips with his fingertips. Dean's eyes fluttered under his lids, lost in some dream. Cas noticed a inch long, pale white scar above Dean's right eyebrow, and even thought he barely knew the man, he almost woke Dean right then and there and asked him where he got the scar. People fascinated Cas, but none had captured his attention like Dean. He mentally shook himself; he couldn't let himself think about Dean like Dean was already his. Dean had probably just tried to quiet him while he had been dreaming. Yes, that was it. He probably just saw Cas as some poor kid who had nightmares. Cas sighed, and slowly tiptoed out of his bed and over to the bathroom. He shut the door quietly and turned to the sink to splash water on his face. He braced himself on the sink and let his head fall between his arms. Cas hadn't been in the bathroom for more than five minutes when there was a shy knock at door. He mumbled something that could pass for come in, but he didn't move from his position against the small sink. Dean poked his head in and took in the scene.

"Uh, hey," Dean cleared his throat and continued, "You were having a pretty rough night... My pain in the ass little brother used to have nightmares too when he was younger, so I hope you don't mind, I just kinda thought I could help calm you down enough to sleep, and I guess somewhere along the line I drifted off too. I didn't mean to startle you or invade your personal space. It won't happen again, if it made you uncomfortable." Dean had begun to fiddle with the silver ring on his right hand halfway through his mini-speech, and as he finished he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Cas straightened and nodded without meeting Dean eyes. He brushed past Dean and out into their room. It was much easier to think straight when Dean wasn't looking at Cas with those eyes that felt like they could see into his soul. Every time Cas looked into them, a constant refrain of greengreengreengreen chanted through his mind. He hated shutting Dean out like that, he really did appreciate Dean's willingness to help him, but he was so close to falling for the man he barely knew that all he could do was stay as far away from him as he could.

After a beat, Dean called after him, "Cas? The afternoon activities are just about to finish up. I guess we slept through them." Cas glanced up at the clock, and sure enough, Dean was right. He sighed, and turned back to face Dean, who was still leaning against the bathroom doorframe. Before Cas could respond, Nurse Masters bustled in and promptly said, "Good, you boys are finally awake. It's time for your therapy sessions. Clarence, you know where to go. Dean, follow me, I'll bring you to Pamela's office." After shooting Cas a questioning look, presumably about her nickname for him Cas thought, Dean followed Nurse Masters out of their room.

Cas sat back down on his bed, trying to think in the sudden solitude. He knew Dean had been hurt by both his actions and his silence, but he couldn't think of any other way to get out of the situation he had awoken in. Dean was flawless in a way that his flaws were what made him beautiful. Cas wanted to spend hours staring at him, watching him move, listening to him speak, and his seemingly effortless way of interacting with others. Dean had put Charlie at ease with a simple sentence, something no one had been able to do. Dean had stood up for him, comforted him, and got the nightmares to stop, something Tessa had been trying to do for months now. Cas couldn't make sense of Dean, but for once, he didn't want to talk to Tessa about it. He wanted to keep Dean to himself, keep him his little secret. Cas sighed and hopped off his bed, and wandered down the halls to Tessa's office.

Tessa, of course, saw straight through Cas. "Tell me about your new roommate," she asked him as soon as he sat down in her office.

"Dean?" Cas feigned ignorance, as if he didn't know exactly what she was hinting at.

"I stopped by your room to check in on you when Charlie came up to me and told that you didn't show up for your cooking class. I saw you two and let you sleep, since I’ve never seen you sleep so soundly before"

"He just was trying to get me to shut up while I was sleeping. That's all it was." Cas blurted out. Tessa looked at him with a funny look on her face, but let the issue drop. She had learned that pressing Cas for information only resulted in him shutting down for the rest of the session. It was better to let him work things out himself and come to his own conclusions, then discuss it with him.

Cas left his therapy session feeling on edge. All he wanted was to go back to his room and read, but there was a chance he would run into Dean and he didn't want to risk it. He didn't want to seek out Charlie either; he wasn't ready to handle her questions about where he was that afternoon. Instead, he quietly walked to the library, and lost himself in the shelves.

 

** Dean **

_Arsonist’s Lullabye- Hozier_

When Dean was younger, he spent nearly every night comforting his younger brother during his nightmares. Sam never questioned why his brother always seemed to be awake; he was too little to understand that every time Dean shut his eyes, all Dean could see was his mother burning. It wasn’t until John handed him his first drink, and then a second, and a third, that Dean was finally able to have dreamless sleep. He promised Sammy that he would never become John, that the beers were only to take the edge off. It wasn’t easy having to start over every couple of months, to have to be the new kid at school, and make friends only to leave them all behind with no reason why. It was just easier for Dean to lose himself in alcohol, drugs, and sex rather than try to make an effort.

While it had taken him awhile, Dean was long over his sexuality crisis, viewing himself as an equal opportunity fuck. Still, the time John had caught him in the backseat of the Impala with another man was seared into Dean’s brain. John had broken Dean’s arm in two places, broken his nose, and had broken six ribs. John had dropped him off at the emergency room and told him to come back only when he was cured of his homosexuality. Dean lived on the streets for two months until the bruises had disappeared and his bones had almost healed. When he returned, Sam had endless questions for him, while John only had one. Dean stared his father in the eye and told him he was better from his momentary lapse in judgment. John had only grunted and told him to hurry up and start dinner for Sammy, since he was going out. Dean wasn’t surprised; it was exactly the response he knew he would get from his father.

When Dean had recounted that incident from his childhood for Pamela, she had struggled to hide her anger and disgust towards John. She had known about the abuse, but it still shocked her every time that a father could do that to his own son.

“Dean, you do realize what John did to you was abuse. There was and never will be justification for what he did.” Her face had softened, and she almost sounded like she was pleading with him.

“Dad was just doing the best he could. I mean he lost his wife for Christ’s sake. He was grieving and I was a fuck up and provoked him.” Dean paused. “It was my fault. Always was.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper as he finished speaking. He angrily sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Crying was weak, John wouldn’t allow it. Dean couldn’t let people see him cry.

Pamela reached across the gap and grabbed Dean’s hand. “Dean, I think we need to have Sam in here to talk about both of your childhoods, and about your father.” Sensing Dean’s resistance, she continued on, “Don’t give me answer right now. Think about it, sleep on it. We can revisit it in a few days.” Dean nodded slowly. “That’s gonna be all for today. You’re doing well Dean, being honest is going to get you better faster than lying will. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Pamela smiled at him, and walked him to the door. As she watched him walk back towards his room, she was struck by how much Dean looked like a lost and scared little kid. _God damn you John Winchester_ she thought, _God damn you to hell._

When Dean returned to his room, he shut himself in the bathroom and ran his fingers through his hair. He faced the mirror, only to have his reflection seemingly talk to him.

 _We need to talk,_ his reflection said.

“I get it. I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Huh? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano y mano with myself?” Dean shook his head.

_Joke all you want, smart-ass. But you can't lie to me. I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror... and hate what you see._

Dean swallowed hard, and regained his composure. “Sorry, pal. It’s not going to work.” He smiled. “You’re not real.”

_Sure I am. I’m you._

“All I have to do is blink, splash some water on my face and you’re gone.” Dean did exactly that, but to his surprise, his reflection is still grinning at him from inside the mirror.

 _I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you._ The bathroom door seemed to lock all by itself. _Like I said, we need to talk. I mean you’re on your way to hell, and all you do is push the needle in deeper. Talk about low self-esteem._ He reflection chuckled. _Then again, I guess it’s not much of a life worth saving, now is it?_

Dean slapped his face, pinched his arm, trying to get rid of his talking reflection.

_You are nothing. You’re as mindless and obedient as an attack dog._

“That’s- that’s not true,” Dean’s bravado was failing, and his reflection seemed to sense it.

_No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, you car? That’s Dad’s. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad’s. Your music? Dad’s. Do you even have an original thought?_

Dean scoffed, and didn’t answer.

_No. No, all there is is, “Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!” You can still hear Dad’s voice in your head, can’t you? Clear as a bell._

“Just shut up.”

_I mean, think about it… All he ever did is train you, boss you around. But Sam… Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved._

“I mean it. I’m getting angry.”

_Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy’s blunt little instrument. You own father didn’t care if you lived or died, why should you?_

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, and punched the mirror. Surprisingly, it held. “My father was an obsessed bastard!” He punched the mirror again. “All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam?! That was his crap. He’s the one who couldn’t protect his family. He-” Dean punched the mirror for a third time. “He’s the one who let mom die.” He took a step back from the mirror. “The one who wasn’t there for Sam. I always was! He wasn’t fair! I didn’t deserve what he put on me.” Dean cocked his fist back. “AND I DON’T DESERVE TO DIE!” He slammed his fist into the mirror and it shattered. He collapsed on the floor of the bathroom, surrounded by the shards of the mirror. he was dimly aware of pounding on the door, but he couldn’t get his body to cooperate and move. He closed his eyes and blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's conversation with himself in the mirror are quotes from ep 3.10, did you catch that? (:


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a real chapter I am so sorry but still read below....

Okay so this isn't an actual chapter BUT I promise I will have three chapters for you very very soon. My life got a little crazy there for a bit and I had zero time to work on this but now I do so yay! Thank you for your kudos and comments, I can't wait to give you guys more to read.


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